


I Was Made For You

by kaguya_yoru



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, Gryffindor Trio, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaguya_yoru/pseuds/kaguya_yoru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This had been a pattern seven years in the making and he hoped he wasn’t misinterpreting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was Made For You

Harry quickly wiped the towel across the face. Lockers banged open and shut and the hissing of the showers sounded around the corner. Fellow Auror trainees drifted past on their way to the showers, a few calling out praises to Harry on his quick reflexes. Harry smiled briefly in acknowledgement of the comments, toweled off the excess sweat, and stuffed the towel in his bag. Shrinking the bag so that it would fit in his pocket, he headed towards the exit. The other trainees didn’t bat an eye anymore at his leaving without showering; since his flat was very close to the Ministry, Harry preferred to just head straight home after training. At least, that was the official reason Harry gave. In reality, he preferred to avoid the stares and whispers from the other trainees while he showered.

He walked quickly through the corridors of the Ministry. Harry kept his head down but he could still feel the gazes of other employees as he passed. Leaving through the visitor’s entrance, Harry stepped out onto the busy London sidewalk and headed in the direction of his flat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shivering slightly at the sting of the brisk fresh air, and reflected on the day’s training session. Being an Auror was more challenging than he had thought it was going to be. Although he did have some of the fastest reflexes in the class, he was sorely lacking in knowledge of the majority of defensive spells due to his spotty education at Hogwarts. However, he had been picking up the spells fairly quickly in the past few months, at least quicker than Ron.

Harry rounded the corner, barely avoiding colliding with another pedestrian. A gust of wind ruffled his hair as he trudged on towards his flat, cooling the sweat droplets still sprinkled on it. In an attempt to attract more trainees to the Ministry, he and Ron had been separated into two different defensive training courses. Advertising had proclaimed that becoming an Auror meant training with the Heroes of the Second Wizarding War, but they needn't have bothered. After Voldemort died, dozens had flocked to the Ministry, hoping to capitalize on the glory of being an Auror after the danger of the War was over. The department had been having a difficult time weeding out the true candidates from the glory-seekers, especially since they were short-handed after so many deaths had occurred.

Shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, Harry shrugged off the morbid thoughts. Harry’s heart lightened as his flat came into view. A good hot shower was exactly what he needed.

*

“Hey.”

Hermione brushed a strand of hair away from her face and looked up. Ron leaned against the doorway of her office, the light from the corridor making his hair gleam. Some of the witches in the office twittered when they saw him, while a few of the wizards rolled their eyes. The rest resolutely kept their eyes on their work.

“Hey,” Hermione replied.

Ron pushed off from the door frame and walked to her desk. “Come on, it's time to go home.”

Hermione immediately looked down at the papers and books scattered across her desk. “Not just yet. I have the goblin requisitions to go through and we still have to figure out how to negotiate with the centaurs...” She shuffled through the papers, looking for the memo that came in earlier.

“Hermione?” Ron's voice stopped her movements and she looked back up at him. He hesitantly brushed away the strand of hair that had fallen again and gave her a lopsided smile. “We...we should go home.” His fingers lingered against her skin.

“Oh!” Hermione flushed suddenly. “Yes. Okay. Yeah, we should...” She gathered up her things, smiling to herself as she did so, the flush not fading from her cheeks. Ron stood aside, the lopsided grin still on his face. Two nearby witches exchanged knowing looks with each other.

Hermione quickly shrunk the scrolls she intended to take home with her and placed them in her briefcase. She gathered up her purse and briefcase before making her way to Ron’s side. As they left her office, Ron placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the Apparition point, sending a shiver down her spine. Her anticipation spiked even further when, as they waited for their turn to Apparate, Ron leaned in and whispered softly and hesitantly in her ear, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

*

Harry sighed at the sensation of the warm water caressing his skin. Truth be told, even with the benefits, he sometimes still chafed at the idea of being the Hero of the Wizarding World. He was glad that he had gotten the special clearance to become an Auror before finishing his last year at Hogwarts; he didn’t know how he could have survived a year trapped within its walls with the memory of that night pressing in all around him. He shook his head underneath the spray, droplets spraying the tiles.

Gripping the soap, he resolutely washed the training sweat from his skin. Scrubbing his hair vigorously until it squeaked, he dunked his head underneath the water, feeling his tension slide away with the suds. His hand briefly drifted downwards, but he changed his mind and twisted the faucet knobs instead, shutting off the shower.

Harry had just finished toweling off when he heard the soft pop of Apparition. Instinctively he tensed, but then he remembered that no one but the three of them could Apparate into their flat. Hermione, brilliant as she was, had made sure of it. He opened the bathroom door to head to his room and stopped short at the sight before him.

*

As soon as they Apparated, Ron pushed her against the wall and kissed her almost desperately. Her hands gripped his shoulders. Ron’s hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before they settled snugly on her hips. Although they’d been dating since the War six months ago and sleeping together for the last two months, he still hesitated to touch her at first, as if he still wanted to ask her permission. As he kissed her, Ron slowly moved closer until his body fit against hers. He groaned as his hips made contact with hers and his tongue flicked out against her lips.

Hermione briefly dropped her arms to dump her purse and briefcase on the floor before she increased the pressure on Ron’s lips and swiped her tongue across his lower lip. He groaned and pressed himself closer to her. She felt like she was on fire and needed him to touch her _more_. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she angled her hips closer until she fit more snugly against him. Ron moaned into her mouth, setting her nerve endings to spark. The first breach of his tongue into her mouth always felt like heaven. She whimpered before her tongue reached out to tangle with his.

Reaching down, Ron hoisted one of her legs roughly up and pressed his body against her. Her skirt was rucked up around her waist and she was abruptly aware of his hard cock pressing into her thigh. Wrenching her mouth away from his, she found herself fumbling at his belt buckle. “I want… I need…” she panted as she opened his trousers. Belatedly, she realized that they were still in the hallway, but she couldn’t seem to muster up a reason to care.

Ron latched onto the sensitive skin of her neck, sucking gently. His light stubble lightly scratched her, sending tingles down her spine and driving her wild with the sensation. Hermione moaned loudly and almost savagely yanked at the button on his trousers, managing to finally pop it open. Her fingers brushed his erection and Ron bucked his hips against her, flattening her hands against her own stomach, but pressing right where she wanted him most. She freed her hands and grabbed his shoulders, bracing herself as she angled her hips into his. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as Ron switched to sucking on the other side of her neck. She felt as if she were drowning in desire.

*

Harry knew he should look away, move, do something, but he was fixated to the spot. His eyes couldn’t stop moving, focusing first on Hermione’s hands clutching Ron’s shoulders, then the movement of Ron’s hips as he thrust against her, then the swipe of Hermione’s tongue as she licked her lips. He was stunned by the sight and, at first, all he could hear was the rushing sound of blood in his own ears as desire hit him. Then his brain began to register sound and every sigh and moan sent a jolt directly to his own hardening cock.

He was looking, at all places, at Hermione’s shoe dangling from the toe of the foot of her raised leg when he heard Ron mutter _Evanesco_. The shoe fell from Hermione’s foot as the angle of their hips shifted. Harry caught his breath as Ron’s thrusts became slow and deliberate, a moan accompanying each one of his movements. He realized that Hermione’s knickers had been vanished and his two best friends were now shagging right in front of him.

More than ever, Harry knew he should leave, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of the blissful expression on Hermione’s face. His hands clenched restlessly to the rhythm of their movements. His hard cock was twitching ever so slightly beneath the terrycloth fabric of the towel tied around his waist, the texture adding to his torment. His breath was coming in soft pants now, so loud in his own ears that he couldn’t believe they couldn’t hear it.

Ron’s hips did a wicked little twist and Hermione’s eyes fluttered open as she moaned. At first, her eyes were unseeing with desire, but Harry saw the moment she realized he was there. Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth formed a small o when she saw Harry’s erection straining beneath the towel. Startled, she raised her gaze to meet Harry’s.

*

Hermione was instantly pierced by the intensity of Harry’s green eyes behind his glasses. Her hands clutched at Ron’s shoulders and she found herself increasing her hips’ movements. Ron groaned into her ear and matched her thrust for thrust. She could feel her desire deepening with every passing second her eyes remained locked onto Harry’s. Harry’s gaze bore into her and each one of Ron’s thrusts pushed her closer to the edge.

Then Ron shifted and briefly stopped his thrusts. Hermione bit her lip and whimpered in protest, her own desire spiking when she saw the lust on Harry’s face. Ron changed the angle of her upraised leg and his thumb slid between their bodies to brush against her clitoris. Hermione gave a ragged moan, gratified to see Harry swallow thickly at the sound. Ron resumed his thrusts and his thumb swiped across her clitoris with each one.

It was too much. She couldn’t stop the moans falling from her lips now. Harry’s gaze locked with hers, Ron’s cock filled her, and waves of desire crested with every brush of his thumb. Ron groaned in her ear and Hermione came undone, crying out at the force of the orgasm that swept through her, her eyelids falling shut of their own accord. One, two, three thrusts later and Ron came with a shout that almost deafened her. Trembling with aftershocks, Hermione opened her eyes and saw only the shut bathroom door in front of her.

*

Harry clenched the sides of the bathroom sink, the edges digging into his palms, wishing for his erection to subside. ‘I will not wank to my best friends shagging,’ he thought desperately, but even as he thought the word ‘shag’, his cock jumped with desire.

“Aw, hell,” he muttered and grabbed his cock with his right hand, his left bracing him against the sink. No more than ten thrusts later into his closed fist and he was spilling into his hand, biting his lip to muffle his own moans. After his shudders had subsided, he cleaned himself quickly, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror.

He moved towards the bathroom door. His hand had just brushed the doorknob when he stopped. He didn’t know if they were still out there. He sat on the edge of the bathtub instead and buried his face in his hands, wracked with shame and guilt that desire pricked him still.

*

Hermione blinked owlishly, still panting with the aftermath of her orgasm. She stared at the closed bathroom door. Had she imagined Harry standing there? Ron pressed a kiss against her brow and slowly lowered her leg, slipping out of her as he did so. Momentarily shy, Ron turned away to tuck himself back in his pants and button his trousers. He frowned slightly as he turned to face her. “Was that…was it good?” He ran his hand through his hair. “I know we’ve never done anything like that before -”

Hermione stopped him with a soft kiss. “It was amazing,” she reassured him. Hermione straightened her skirt and stooped to retrieve her dropped purse and briefcase. She glanced at the bathroom door once more before moving towards her bedroom.

*

It wasn’t until Harry avoided her gaze at dinner that she knew for certain. He’d been quiet all evening so she had asked him if anything was wrong. He hadn’t looked at her as he said he was tired from training. So he had been standing there while they…while she…

Hermione blushed at the memory. Ron stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She fanned her face, avoiding looking at Harry. “I just feel a little warm, is all.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders and launched into a joke involving a boggart, a banshee, and a goblin walking into a pub. Harry, distracted by Ron’s wild gestures, visibly relaxed and began to laugh. Hermione took the opportunity to study both of them.

Hermione had started to fancy Ron in second year, although she had stubbornly denied it even to herself until fourth year. She remembered the moment as if it was yesterday. They had been searching for the recipe for Polyjuice Potion in the Hogwarts library when she’d looked up to find Ron impatiently blowing his fringe out of his eyes. His freckles stood out prominently on his long nose, his ears stuck out slightly, and her heart thudded in her chest. He looked up with a frown, she snapped at him to get back to researching, and that was that. She was hooked. She’d told herself sensibly that it was just a passing infatuation, but then it had never passed.

She smiled as Ron almost toppled out of his chair and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. That second bottle of wine they’d polished off was definitely not helping him to keep his balance. She was feeling its effects too and the world was looking a bit shinier because of it. She turned her attention to Harry.

While her relationship with Ron had always been tempestuous, it was different with Harry. Oh she knew that he preferred Ron’s company to hers, but she viewed him as the younger brother she’d never had – chivvying him through the dangerous situations in which he found himself. (Well, she always made sure to keep both her boys safe.) At least it was that way until fourth year and the Triwizard Tournament arrived. When other girls began to fancy him, she’d taken a good look and discovered that he had become very attractive. Part of the reason Rita Skeeter’s articles had bothered her so much was because they had made her uncomfortably aware of just how attractive she did find him. That awareness had softened somewhat during seventh year, tempered by their fear and despair while they camped in the British countryside, and they had grown even closer, especially after Ron left.

“Hermione!” Hermione jerked to attention. Ron and Harry were both staring at her.

Ron chuckled. “You looked the same way you do when you’re lost in a book. What were you thinking about?”

Hermione dared to glance at Harry but his features were guarded once more. “Oh, I was just trying to come up with a solution for how to approach the centaurs.” She avoided looking at Harry. “Shall we go to bed?”

Climbing the stairs, Hermione worried at her lower lip. If she hadn’t imagined Harry in the hallway before, the responsible thing would be to tell Ron, right? She watched Ron climb the stairs in front of her and tried not to think about Harry two steps behind her. At the top of the stairs, she hesitated before entering Ron’s bedroom. Ron had already gone inside to get ready for bed. She glanced in the direction of Harry’s bedroom.

Harry was similarly poised at the doorway to his own room. At this distance, with the hallway light dimmed, she couldn’t see the expression on his face. Yet, she felt rooted to the spot. The air grew heavy between them and she found it hard to breathe. She hadn’t felt like this about Harry in ages. And she was in love with Ron. Right?

“Hermione, you coming?”

Hermione jumped. Harry slipped into his own bedroom. Hermione sighed and entered Ron’s bedroom. Scooping up her neatly folded nightclothes from where they lay on the dresser, she entered Ron’s adjoining bathroom and closed the door softly. 

She stared at herself in the mirror, her face pale in the fluorescent lighting. She knew she should tell Ron. However, she couldn’t think of a single positive outcome of that conversation. She knew all about Ron’s jealousy of Harry, of course. And if he knew that Harry had seen such an intimate moment between them or about how she felt during the moment, it would tear him apart.

*

Ron was very observant. He knew most people thought he was thick because he did have a tendency to lose his temper and stick his foot in his mouth. However, he’d learned how to be observant early; you had to be growing up in a house with the twins. Chess had honed his skills, allowing him to see patterns easily. And seventh year had doused his temper and forced him to learn patience, confined to wait for word in Shell Cottage and regretting his decision every day to leave Harry and Hermione.

Moreover, Ron liked observing people. Ever since he’d been dumbfounded by Hermione’s litany of Cho’s feelings back in fifth year, he’d found that it was actually pretty easy to tell what someone was feeling if you just paid attention to the patterns. So when Hermione kept casting contemplative glances at Harry and Harry studiously avoided her gaze all week, Ron knew something was up. Ron felt a little sting that they wouldn’t tell him what was going on, but for now, he was keeping silent about it. Eventually, they would.

Ron stretched his neck by tilting his head to one side, then the other. He had to be on his toes today. After Harry had recounted the number of times he’d found himself without the use of a wand during seventh year, Kingsley Shacklebolt had determined that the Aurors were too dependent on their wands for apprehension. Once a week, the Auror department combined the two training groups to learn Muggle techniques such as hand to hand combat, rope tying, and outdoor survival skills like starting a fire.

This week, they were practicing hand to hand combat. This was the only time he and Harry were ever paired together in training. During the first hand to hand combat training session, Harry had reacted rather violently to another trainee attempting to practice a chokehold on him; his magic had lashed out with such force that the room had been plunged into darkness, punctuated by the screams of the trainee with the now broken arm. Harry had gone pale with a slight green tinge once he saw what he had done and Ron remembered clutching him afterwards as Harry vomited into the Ministry toilet. After that, Ron and Harry had been paired together. Harry trusted Ron to not hurt him physically and Ron trusted Harry to not hurt him with his magic.

Ron watched Harry out of the corner of his eye as they warmed up. As he moved through the warm-up exercises, Ron noted that Harry looked like he was trying to relax and was failing miserably at it. His movements were stiff and jerky and his face was set in a glower. Ron had gotten very good at tailoring how hard he pushed Harry depending on Harry’s mood. It looked like he would have to be on the defensive today and let Harry work out whatever was bothering him.

“All right, everyone!” The Ministry trainer yelled to catch everyone’s attention. “No new material today. We’re going to practice what we learned last week: grappling.” She clapped her hands together. “Remember: anticipate your partner’s movements by focusing on the chest, not the eyes. Try not to telegraph your moves. Think quickly first, then explode with intention!” She punctuated her statement by flinging her arms outward from her chest in a burst of movement.

“Pinning both shoulders for 5 seconds constitute the end of the match. We’re aiming for immobilization, not play time. Pair up! Pair up!” she called.

Harry and Ron turned to face each other and settled into their defensive stances. They were in the far corner of the training hall, close to the exits. There was a space cleared around them, so that they were relatively isolated from the rest of the trainees. All trainees and training instructors knew not to interfere during their matches unless they were explicitly called over. No one wanted another incident like the first time.

Circling each other, Ron focused his attention on Harry’s chest. The grey T-shirt wasn’t form-fitting, but he could see Harry’s muscles shifting underneath it as he moved. His biceps, displayed by the short sleeves, flexed as he clenched his fists slightly. Ron concentrated on placing his feet carefully. When Harry was in such a mood, he knew to expect a flurry of quick movements and he’d need to respond in kind or Harry would get frustrated.

When the circling had gone for longer than expected, Ron frowned slightly; Harry’s pattern had changed. He risked a glance at Harry’s face. Harry was brimming with energy, but he seemed reluctant to attack Ron. His jaw was clenched tight and his muscles were tense. It seemed he would have to push Harry after all.

Dropping quickly to the ground, Ron performed a sweeping kick that knocked Harry off his feet. Harry hit the mat with a grunt. Ron moved to straddle Harry and pin both of his shoulders to the mat. Deprived of breath, Harry didn’t react for a moment. Then, Harry’s hands moved to grip Ron’s biceps and his hips bucked upwards.

Ron stared down at Harry in surprise. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t seem to process what he was feeling. Ron watched in fascination as Harry’s face drained of color and then rapidly turned red.

“Get off me!” Harry cried. His whole body arched upwards, throwing Ron to the mat. He lay sprawled where he fell, watching as Harry ran from the training hall.

*

Later that night, Ron lay in bed looking up at the ceiling. After Harry had ran from the practice area, the Ministry trainer had come over to make sure Ron hadn’t been hurt. Seeing that he was otherwise fine, she had paired him with one of the larger trainees and Ron had had to be quick on his feet to avoid getting pinned. When he’d gotten home, he’d found a note from Hermione reminding them that she was working late and there had been no sign of Harry. Dinner had been a lonely affair of leftover Chinese. He’d tried to read his copy of _Chudley Cannons’ 50 Greatest Near-Wins_ , a birthday present from Harry, but had been unable to concentrate. Finally, he had given up in disgust and tried to turn in early.

That had been four hours ago. Well, it had only been 6 pm when he’d turned in.

Ron sighed and finally turned his thoughts towards what had happened during the training session that day. It wasn’t unusual for new male trainees to get erections during practice and all of the trainees, male and female, were given a lecture about it. Since new trainees were only 17 or 18 when they join, their hormones were still running rampant. Protocol dictated that the male trainee be given the time to “cool off” and no ribbing was allowed. Of course, the trainers couldn’t hear what went on in the locker rooms. Usually, the incidents ended up stopping after the first couple of weeks of training anyway because everyone was too exhausted.

It wasn’t the fact that Harry had gotten an erection that surprised him, but the way in which Harry had thrust upwards. In the moment before Harry had thrown him off, every sensation had been thrown into sharp relief: the calluses on Harry’s hands as he gripped his biceps, Harry’s mouth falling open slightly and his eyelids sweeping shut, the feel of Harry’s cock pressed against his thigh. The surge of desire he had felt in response had made concentrating during the rest of practice very difficult.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about Harry in that way. In fact, Ron had spent all of first year painfully aware that his feelings for Harry ran a bit deeper than friendship. It had been no coincidence that he’d been willing to sacrifice himself during that horrid chess game first year. Part of the reason he had convinced the twins to help him rescue Harry from the Dursleys before second year was because he had missed him so much over the summer. But he hadn’t thought that Harry felt the same way and so he’d mostly buried the feelings.

There had been a few times after that when thoughts of Harry would pop up. He’d been flattered when it turned out that he was the treasure that Harry would miss the most and secretly glad that he’d spent most of the Yule Ball hanging out with Harry. After the Yule Ball, he’d found himself thinking more about Hermione than he usually did and he’d thought his feelings for Harry had faded. But while staring at that locket-generated image of the two of them entwined in seventh year, he’d had the startling realization that he hadn’t known who he was more jealous of: Harry or Hermione. And when Hermione had kissed him during the Battle at Hogwarts, he’d been shocked that either one of them would want him, especially after he’d walked out on both of them.

Ron abruptly turned over on his side with a huff and punched his pillow. So what the hell had happened in training today? He loved living with his two best friends (and away from his meddling mum) and he had a good thing going with Hermione these past six months. Was he just supposed to pretend that nothing happened?

*

Hermione Apparated to the flat late that night and yawning, headed towards her own bedroom. All three of them had bedrooms in the flat, although recently she’d been spending most nights in Ron’s room. When she worked late nights though, she preferred to sleep in her own bed to avoid waking him. Despite getting little sleep, she awoke the next morning with the sunrise, feeling energized about her new plan to approach the centaur negotiations. She was grateful that she had the weekend ahead of her to work on it and refine it.

Wearing only a long T-shirt, she headed downstairs to the kitchen to brew herself a cup of coffee and was pleasantly surprised to see Ron in the kitchen and that he had already made some. She leaned against the doorway and watched him pour a cup. The rising sun peeking through the kitchen window bathed him in light, making her heart skip a beat at the sight. She felt a wave of guilt. She loved Ron with all of her heart. What did it say about her that she had been turned on by Harry watching her have sex with Ron? What did it say about their relationship?

Ron turned as he brought the coffee cup to his lips. He smiled when he saw her, before taking a sip. Not wanting him to see the guilt in her eyes, she walked towards him and hugged him around his waist, burying her face in his chest, her still bushy hair tickling his chin. His free arm hugged her closer to him and he chuckled slightly.

“Good morning.” The sound of his voice rumbled through his chest and she had never felt so safe and loved. She had also never felt so wretched in her life. She heard a sound behind her and she turned her head to look at the doorway, still wrapped in Ron’s arms.

Harry was framed by the doorway. His hair was in its usual messy spikes and his glasses didn’t diminish the intensity of his green eyes. His gaze caught Hermione’s and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. He shifted his gaze to Ron and she felt Ron’s muscles tense. She felt frozen to the spot. Without a word, Harry turned on his heel and walked away. She heard the soft pop as he Apparated away.

Mumbling something about work, she extricated herself from Ron’s hold. She hurried back to her own room and took a deep breath once she closed the door. This was all wrong and it was her fault. She had put a strain not only in her own relationship with Harry, but also in his relationship with Ron. Hermione headed towards her desk. The centaur negotiations were going to have to wait. She needed to figure out how to fix this without anyone getting hurt.

*

“Ron? Hermione?” Harry called up the stairs. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Could we...could we talk in the study?”

Harry sat down in one of the armchairs in the study. The study was rectangular in shape. A large forest green leather couch faced a fireplace big enough for a person to stand in, while matching armchairs faced slightly inwards on either side. An ottoman was placed in front of the armchair Harry wasn’t occupying. Bookshelves lined the long walls of the study, mostly filled with Hermione’s beloved textbooks, but there were some shelves filled with Quidditch strategy books and Ron’s well-worn copies of _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle_.

This week had been a living nightmare. He hadn’t been able to sleep at night and it was starting to show during training. More than once he’d been hit by a spell that he could have easily blocked before. His Potions had burned through three cauldrons and his Charms work had been complete rubbish. Shacklebolt had even pulled him aside today and told him in no uncertain terms to get his act together in time for training on Monday.

Harry looked up as Ron and Hermione entered the study. His stomach churned as he thought of what he had tell them. It wasn’t going to be easy, but the past week had shown him that he was clearly interfering with Ron and Hermione’s relationship. He had dragged them through enough in the past seven years. They deserved to be happy and he was just getting in their way.

Ron sat on the couch in the study while Hermione settled on the other armchair.

“I need to tell you two something.” His voice was harsh in the quiet room and he winced at the sound. Unable to look at his two best friends and suddenly filled with nervous energy, Harry got up and walked over to the fireplace. Muttering a quiet _Incendio_ , he stared into the crackling fire, working up his courage.

Ever since he and Ginny had broken up four months ago, he had been feeling lonely. Spending seventh year running from Death Eaters had aged Harry far beyond what a year in Hogwarts under the Carrows had done for Ginny. He found her lack of understanding grated on his nerves and he ended up spending more time with Ron and Hermione, who understood better what he’d been through. And although she’d never admitted it, he knew that she sometimes blamed him for the death of Fred.

Beginning his training with the Aurors while she was still waiting to start her seventh year at Hogwarts had further divided them. When the excitement of finally being together had faded after the first month, it had only taken another month for them to realize that they weren’t really suited for each other. They’d finally split up after they both admitted it wasn’t working.

While his relationship with Ginny had been falling apart, Harry had watched as Ron and Hermione’s relationship deepened. He struggled to be happy for his friends while his own loneliness grew. But now he’d crossed a line with both of them and there was only one thing to do. There was no place for him here anymore.

Turning to face them, Harry said quietly, “I’m moving out.”

Hermione looked stricken. Ron’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Moving out?” he asked.

Hermione wrung her hands together. “Oh, this is all my fault. Harry, you mustn’t!”

Harry was confused. “How is this your fault, Hermione? I’m the one...” Harry abruptly shut his mouth. He wasn’t going to ruin Ron and Hermione’s relationship any more than he already had.

“Look, mate.” Ron leaned forward earnestly. “It’s...okay. It’s natural. You don’t have to move out over it.”

Harry winced. “It’s not...just about that.”

Ron moved his gaze from Harry to Hermione, who was now looking at the floor. Slowly, he got up from the couch and took a couple of steps away from both of them. “What is this about?” His voice was even, but Harry could hear the slight edge to his words.

Hermione looked up at Harry, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I have to tell him, Harry.”

*

Ron’s heart thudded in his chest. Seeing the way they looked at each other reminded him of an ice-cold forest in the middle of the night. He could feel again the water dripping from his clothes and his slippery grip on the sword. The locket whispering about how he was always second-best and nothing compared to the Boy Who Lived. He crossed his arms against a sudden chill down his spine.

“What is it?” His voice cracked slightly.

Hermione’s face was pale. “Do you remember when we Apparated home earlier this week?” Ron nodded, not trusting his voice. “Towards the...end, I -” Hermione’s voice failed her and she looked down at the ground again. The only sound was the crackling of the fire.

“I watched you.” Harry’s voice was agonized. He looked straight at Ron. “I didn’t mean to. I came out of the shower and you were there. And I just couldn’t look away.”

Ron looked at them. Harry’s hand was gripping the fireplace so hard that his knuckles were white, but he didn’t turn away from Ron’s gaze. Hermione couldn’t bear to look up and her fingers nervously picked at a stray fiber on her skirt. There were two spots of color high on her cheeks.

“Hermione,” Ron said slowly. “You knew he was watching.” It was a statement of fact. Hermione’s fingers stilled and she nodded without looking up. He thought back and remembered how frantic she had gotten towards the end. “And you...liked it?” The blush deepening on her cheeks was all the answer he needed.

Ron stared into the fire. The twisting flames reminded him of that last image the locket had projected. He hadn’t been able to stab the locket until it had showed Harry and Hermione kissing. And in the brief instant before he’d brought the sword down, he remembered how he hadn’t known who he’d actually been jealous of. All at once, the pieces dropped into place. He knew what he had to do, as sure as when the Deluminator’s light had gone inside him.

“Harry, you can’t leave.” Ron unfolded his arms and took a step closer. Hermione lifted her gaze from the floor. He took another step closer. He was more nervous than he’d ever been. This had been a pattern seven years in the making and he hoped he wasn’t misinterpreting it. He took another step closer. He could see Harry bracing himself against the fireplace, his eyes wary behind his glasses.

Ron stepped closer until he was right in front of Harry. He could see Harry’s chest rising and falling, his breaths coming a little too quickly than normal. Ron raised a hand and Harry flinched slightly, but gritted his teeth and didn’t move from his spot. Ron gently laid his hand along Harry’s neck, his thumb brushing Harry’s cheek. He noted the surprise in Harry’s eyes. Bending slightly, Ron let his lips brush Harry’s.

Ron could feel Harry stiffen and he heard a sharp intake of breath from Hermione. He prayed to whatever god might be listening that he wasn’t wrong about this and settled his mouth more firmly against Harry’s. It was different, so different from kissing Hermione. Whereas she was soft and yielding, he could feel the strength of Harry. He only let his lips linger for a few seconds, pulling away after noting with disappointment that Harry wasn’t kissing back.

Dropping his hand, he took a step backwards. Harry’s jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful. Ron glanced at Hermione. She looked dumbfounded.

“What. Was. That?” Harry bit out.

Sighing, Ron ran his fingers through his hair. He felt a wave of bitterness wash over him. Didn’t they understand? “We belong together. The three of us. It’s not going to work any other way. Hasn’t the universe been telling us that for the past seven years?” His hands felt restless; he’d always been better at actions than words and he wasn’t sure if he was getting his point across or not.

Hermione stood up. “He’s right, Harry.” She wore the same look as she had when she figured out the Philospher’s Stone in first year or the Hallows in seventh: scared but determined. “It’s always been the three of us.” She took a deep breath. “Kiss him, Harry.”

Ron’s heart leapt in his chest. He knew she understood now. Whatever they were embarking on, it had to start with him and Harry, just like that first train ride to Hogwarts.

“Both of you - you’re crazy,” Harry whispered. Ron’s heart sank. “It can’t be...” Harry swallowed, his eyes bright. “That easy.”

Something loosened in Ron’s chest and he turned towards Harry. Grabbing his face with both hands, his mouth descended onto Harry’s. There was a brief moment of hesitation and then finally, Harry was with him. Harry’s mouth sprang into action and he kissed Ron with single-minded intensity. Ron felt as if he was flying. His heart thudded in his chest. Harry’s mouth parted and Ron dove in, his tongue sliding against Harry’s.

“Wow.” Ron eased away from Harry and looked at Hermione. She drew in a shaky breath and her eyes were wide. “That was...hot.” The tension broke and they all laughed. She took a step towards them.

Ron grinned. He nudged Harry towards Hermione. “Kiss her.” His voice was deeper with desire.

Harry looked at Ron. He licked his lips unconsciously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Harry and Hermione moved towards each other. Harry placed his hand around her waist and drew her closer to him. Her hands came up to rest against his chest. Harry’s lips touched hers and she melted against him. Ron had to ignore that faint feeling of being left out, of being abandoned, stirred up by the locket’s lies. He knew in his heart that this was right.

They broke off their kiss and Hermione turned towards Ron. Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her and for the first time, felt truly complete. He could still taste traces of Harry on her lips. He pulled back from the kiss and turned Hermione around his arms, kissing the side of her neck as he did so. Harry was watching the two of them with darkened eyes. “Come here, Harry.”

Harry came closer and after a slight hesitation, leaned in to kiss Hermione again. His hands went to her waist and tangled with Ron’s hands that were already there. Harry pulled his mouth from Hermione’s and angled it upwards towards Ron, who gladly took the invitation. He could hear a slight sucking sound as Hermione drew the skin of Harry’s neck into her mouth.

Ron could feel Hermione’s arms moving and then Harry was pulled away from him. She tugged upwards on Harry’s jumper and Harry took the hint, pulling it off and leaving a white T-shirt in place. Ron could see Harry’s muscles through the thin material.

“Wait.” Harry looked uncomfortable. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Hermione burst out laughing. “Well, neither have we!”

Harry looked a little sheepish. “No, I mean. Not a threesome,” he said, stumbling slightly over the last word. “With Ginny, we just kissed.”

Ron cleared his throat. “I haven’t, either.” When Harry and Hermione looked at him incredulously, he hurried to explain. “Not with a guy. I mean, just kisses, too.”

Hermione looked surprised. “With who?”

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. “Seamus? Fourth year. When Harry and I were fighting before the first Task.” He shrugged. “We got drunk one night and it just...happened.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. “We could stop.” She looked between the two of them and stepped back from them slightly. “We don’t have to do this now.” She didn’t look all that happy about the idea.

“No!” Harry lowered his voice. “No, I want to do this. If you want to?” He directed the last question to Ron.

“Definitely,” Ron murmured and crossed over to Harry to kiss him again. He felt desire rising and let his hands drift down the biceps he’d spent many a training session trying not to stare at. Separating slightly, he pulling at the hem of the T-shirt, stripping it from Harry’s body.

“Do you mind if we do this...one at a time? At least, at first.” Harry looked between Ron and Hermione. “I just want to remember everything.”

“Sure, Harry.” Hermione’s mouth was parted slightly and her breath hitched. “Who do you want?”

Harry turned towards Ron. “You.” He glanced back at Hermione. “If you don’t mind?”

“No, no, no.” Hermione sounded rather out of breath. “I don’t mind.” She sat down on the sofa.

In a small, far corner of his mind, Ron thrilled that he had been chosen first. He renewed their kiss with enthusiasm, running his hands all over Harry’s bare skin. Harry slipped his hands underneath Ron’s shirt, splaying them across his stomach. Ron immediately pulled away to rip the shirt off, sighing at the feel of his bare skin against Harry’s. Harry put his hands on Ron’s waist and pulled him in closer. Both of them froze as their cocks brushed against each other, still trapped in their jeans. Then they sprang into action at the same time, Ron reaching down to cup Harry’s ass while Harry pulled them even closer together, his hands climbing up Ron’s back to clutch at his shoulders. Their kiss grew deeper and more frantic.

Harry began to walk Ron backwards and Ron went, trusting Harry to not lead them astray and focused on exploring every corner of Harry’s mouth. Harry tasted clean and fresh, different than Hermione’s sweetness. When Ron felt the edge of the ottoman bump the back of his calves, he reluctantly pulled away from Harry and almost groaned at the sight of Harry’s kiss-swollen lips. Harry moved his hands to the front of Ron’s shoulders and pressed down. Ron fell onto the ottoman with a not entirely graceful sprawl while Harry sank to his knees. His hands ran slowly up Ron’s jean covered-thighs and he licked his lips.

“I’ve been dreaming...”

“Yes - “ Ron interrupted with a hiss, not even knowing what he was agreeing to but wanting more of Harry’s touch.

Harry’s eyes darkened and his hands moved towards the fastenings of Ron’s jeans. Ron’s hands gripped the sides of the ottoman and he held his breath as Harry unfastened the button and slowly drew down the zipper. Harry hesitated a moment before pulling down the waistband of Ron’s shorts to free his cock. Ron huffed a little as his cock was freed from its confines but his breath stuttered as Harry ran a finger down its length as it lay against his stomach.

Unconsciously, Ron widened his legs and Harry took the unspoken invitation to lean closer. His hands hesitantly explored Ron’s cock. It was long and of a fairly generous girth, the head as red as the flush slowly creeping up Ron’s chest and gracing the tips of his ears. Harry’s fingertips slowly traced the sides and briefly brushed over the tip of the head. Slowly, he closed his hand around the base and gave an experimental tug, looking up to see Ron’s reaction. His hand faltered upon seeing Ron’s expression. Ron’s upper body was taut with tension, his elbows locked and hands gripping the sides of the ottoman. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were screwed tight.

“Am I - Am I hurting you?” Harry asked, concerned. He moved as if to take his hands away.

Ron’s eyes popped open. “Bloody -” he bit out. He sucked in a shuddering breath. “Don’t stop, Harry,” he moaned.

Harry’s hand closed around him more confidently and Ron’s eyelids closed again. His breath hitched as Harry began a firm slide of his hand. In contrast to Hermione’s smooth skin, Harry had calluses from gripping his broomstick, the texture adding to the sensation. Harry’s thumb swept over the head, spreading the precome gathered there and Ron couldn’t stop the moan that came tumbling out. His thighs ached with the tension of not thrusting into Harry’s fist.

There was a brief cessation of movement and then Ron felt the swipe of a tongue over the head. He couldn’t stop the jerk of his hips and he had to open his eyes to see. While Harry slowly fisted the base of Ron’s cock, his tongue was darting out to sample the precome slowly leaking out. Ron groaned at the sight. In that far corner of his mind that he tried not to think about too much, he was smugly satisfied to see the Chosen One on his knees, kiss-swollen lips against his cock. As he watched, Harry leaned in to gently suck at the tip and Ron’s breath hitched at the sensation. After several moments, Harry pulled back, increasing the length of his strokes, and Ron’s moans increased as well.

“I want to see you come,” he declared. But although Ron could feel the pleasure mounting, he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. He couldn’t draw breath, much less say this to Harry though.

“Here.” Hermione appeared next to Harry, sounding out of breath. “Here. He needs -”, she said and firmly tugged on the waistband of Ron’s jeans and shorts. Ron lifted his hips to oblige her, pushing his cock more firmly into Harry’s hand as he did so and wresting another groan from his lips. Hermione pulled them down to the ground, Harry moving slightly to the side but not stopping his strokes. The flush staining his chest was also present in his thighs and his balls were drawn up tight with the pressure. Stretching her torso while on her knees, Hermione drew down Ron’s head with a hand around his neck to kiss him, open-mouthed and filthy, while the other reached down to fondle his balls.

Ron’s entire body stiffened with shock at the pleasure. His brain went entirely offline and his world narrowed down to Harry’s hand on his cock and Hermione’s hand on his balls. He couldn’t even kiss Hermione anymore, instead reduced to just panting slightly at the seam of her lips, his eyes closed. His heart thudded in his chest. As the tension built, he tried to warn them but everything was washed away in the flood of release, a slight hitch and low groan the only indication before he came.

Dimly, he heard Hermione execute a cleaning charm and felt the familiar tingle of the spell working. When he finally peeled open his eyes, Hermione was kissing his neck and chest and Harry was looking a little gobsmacked, still kneeling at Ron’s feet. Ron felt warm and heavy, pleasure soaked in every limb, and he pulled up Hermione to give her a long, thorough kiss.

“Help Harry,” he whispered.

Hermione sank down next to Harry and kissed him almost desperately. Harry made a small noise in the back of his throat as he returned the favor. As they kissed, Hermione unfastened his jeans and drew out his cock, grasping it firmly in her hand and sliding up and down its length. Ron noted that Harry’s cock was slightly shorter than his own, but a little thicker. He also saw that Harry was having trouble staying upright and he slipped down off the ottoman, kicking off his jeans and shorts as he did so, to sit behind him. They all took a moment to rearrange their limbs, so that Harry was settled in the vee of Ron’s legs, Hermione still kneeling in place in front of Harry.

Once arranged, Hermione resumed kissing Harry and stroking his length. Ron took the opportunity to unfasten the buttons of Hermione’s shirt, parting the fabric and stroking his hands down her sides. He heard her give a soft sigh and grinned. Seeing that she was wearing a front clasp bra, he thanked whichever gods were responsible, and popped open the clasp. Cupping her breasts, he swiped his thumbs over both of her nipples.

Hermione broke the kiss with a sharp gasp. Harry opened his eyes and stilled at the sight of Hermione’s bare breasts in front of him.

“Go on, Harry,” Ron urged, his voice a deep gravel. He removed his hands from Hermione and picked up Harry’s. He cupped Hermione’s breasts with Harry’s hands and then swept his own palms down Harry’s arms and chest. Hermione’s hand stilled on Harry’s cock. Harry slowly caressed Hermione’s breasts, his gaze intent on cataloguing every reaction to his touch. Hermione's eyes closed and her mouth was parted slightly, marking her approval with soft moans and gasps. When Harry leaned in to capture a nipple with his lips, her hands left his cock entirely in favor of grasping the sides of Harry’s head. Ron wasn’t close enough to kiss Hermione, but he firmly grasped her neck, his thumb sliding over her wet mouth. As he watched her reactions, he felt his cock start to fill again, trapped against Harry’s back.

When Hermione had had enough, she pulled Harry off of her breasts and captured his lips with her own. After a brief, deep kiss, she slipped down Harry’s body to engulf his cock with her mouth. Harry involuntarily jerked in pleasure but Hermione rode with it. After that, Ron had to hold down Harry’s hips. Whereas Harry had been quiet earlier while Hermione had stroked him, now he couldn’t seem to stop the noises spilling from his mouth or the undulations of his hips. Ron sucked on the sensitive skin of Harry’s neck, gratified when Harry’s moans doubled in volume, his own cock hardening even more and starting to leak precome onto Harry’s back. Soon, Harry came with a loud cry, his hands clutching Ron’s thighs and back arched in pleasure.

Hermione eased off of Harry’s cock, licking her lips. Ron’s hand shot forward and he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her close so that he could lick into her mouth, tasting the unfamiliar saltiness of Harry still inside.

“Harry, lean against the ottoman, will you?” Ron’s voice was gruff with desire. Harry obliged while Ron stood up, pulling Hermione to her feet as well.

Hermione melted against him and they kissed long and deep. As they kissed, Ron pulled off her button-down and bra, dropping them on the ground. He loosened the skirt she was wearing, also letting it fall to the ground. Stroking her center, Ron groaned when he found her panties positively soaked and couldn’t resist pushing aside the fabric and slipping one finger inside. Hermione whined in the back of the throat and ripped her mouth from his.

“Ronald Weasley, if you don’t get inside me right this minute -” she began furiously, then broke off with a moan when he slipped in another finger and scissored. Her hands clutched at his shoulders.

Ron chuckled and eased his fingers out of her. She slipped her panties off her hips and kicked them towards a corner of the room. Ron eased her down onto her back on the rug in front of the fireplace, which had come with its own Cushioning Charm. The heat of the fireplace washed over their skin, but Ron felt like he was burning up from the inside as he caressed Hermione’s body. Looking up, he saw Harry watching them with a slightly lost expression on his face.

Ron cleared his throat. “A little help here, mate? Grab a pillow.”

Harry fetched one of the throw pillows from the couch and brought it over to them, his brow slightly furrowed in confusion. Ron lifted Hermione’s hips and Harry caught on immediately, sliding the pillow beneath them and bringing Hermione’s center up closer to Ron’s cock. Once the pillow was in place, Ron slid his hand around Harry’s neck and brought him close in for a kiss, the thumb of his other hand slipping down to rub Hermione’s clit. Ignoring her cries for the moment, Ron focused on plundering Harry’s mouth, exploring each and every crevice and twining his tongue with his. Pulling away from Harry’s mouth, Ron pushed down on Harry’s neck, wordlessly urging him to kiss Hermione. Harry’s lips met Hermione’s just as Ron pushed inside her.

Harry alternated his attention between Hermione’s mouth, swallowing her moans and gasps, and her breasts, using both his mouth and hands to caress them. Ron ruthlessly pushed her towards her first orgasm, his thumb slipping over her sensitive clit as he thrust inside. Ron gritted his teeth as he rode it out, feeling her insides pulsate around him. He saw Harry’s hand slip down to pump his newly hardened cock as they worked together to push Hermione towards her second orgasm.

Hermione’s cries were desperate now, her hips matching Ron thrust for thrust. Harry had pulled back slightly and was watching both of them, one hand slipping over his own member, the other tweaking one of Hermione’s nipples. None of them could stop the moans falling from their lips and Ron thought it was the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. Harry came first, come spilling over his fingers. He quickly turned his attention to Hermione, fingers twisting both her nipples and his mouth descending to cover hers. Hermione didn’t stand a chance and her back arched sharply as she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Ron couldn’t hold on this time and his hips snapped forward twice before he came with an almost embarrassingly loud moan.

Ron’s thighs were burning with exertion. He sighed as he slipped out of Hermione and collapsed to her side, staring up at the ceiling and still trying to draw in air. Hermione was still whimpering slightly and trembling with aftershocks. Harry lay down on the other side of her. After a moment, he spoke up.

“I don’t think I’ll be moving out after all.”

All three dissolved into breathless laughter.


End file.
